The Drawing
by phases.equal.fanfics
Summary: A gathering of nations watch the most anticipated soccer/football event... the World Cup! Well, the drawings at least. 32 countries are drawn into eight groups of four, and only the top two from each group will move on. Focuses mainly on the reactions of England, France, America, and Germany as they find out who they're playing against! Rated K , slight pairing :)


The Drawing

"Oi, Italy, pass me another one will you," Germany said as he sat down on his couch.

"No problemo!" Italy reached out and grabbed a beer from the cooler sitting next to him. Suddenly he heard the doorbell ring.

"Ah, it must be the others!"

He jumped up and giddily waltzed toward the front door. Opening it, he came upon France, England, and America, the latter looking extremely excited.

"Come in and a hurry up! It's almost about to begin!"

"Thank you, sorry if we were a bit late," muttered England politely.

"The party has arrived, dude!" America shouted as he strolled in, arms full with a huge plate of hamburgers, with France and England following suit. As they walked into Germany's living room they spotted the rest of their friends- and soon to be competitors. Some shouted out greetings, while others simply stared at the television, eyes glued to the screen.

"Ah, I see we were the last to arrive…" said England, now glaring at France. "Because of course _someone _insisted on taking the long way here!"

"Calm down _mon frere, _we are here are we not? Now take that stick out of your ass and sit down already."

"Oh, you bloody little-"

"Guys please, save it for the drawings!" interrupted America. "You can complain all you want once you end up in the same group! Which would be hilarious."

Both muttered obscenities while they sat down next to each other. On the couch, they had joined Japan, Greece, Spain, Germany, and Italy, while Russia, the Netherlands, and Switzerland sat on the floor.

"I still don't know why this had to be at my place," Germany sighed to himself. Nonetheless, the countries had gotten together to watch as their names would be drawn into groups for the one event that bound everyone together once every four years, and pulled one team through sweat and tears to victory. The event that brought back age old rivalries and created new ones.

"The last World Cup was quite a thriller, wasn't it?" Spain said, grinning widely.

A tangle of moans and grumbles came from the countries that didn't quite make it last time. Spain turned just enough to see the Netherlands give him a nasty look.

"Oh shut it. The past is the past, what matters is what happens now!" Germany stated angrily. He reached for the remote and turned up the volume. All countries watched as the camera shot transitioned to the officials as they walked on stage and started their introduction.

"This is taking too long!" Switzerland complained.

"I agree, it's as if they want to torture our minds," Russia added.

"Hey, anyone want any beverages? They're on the house!" exclaimed Italy.

"You mean MY house, you _dummkopf_."

No one replied as they all chatted amongst themselves, the most heated conversation being between England and America.

"You totally remember every single minute of that game, dude! Don't deny it!" America said as he laughed at England.

"Don't you even bring that up you twit! And why are you so happy about it, it's not like you even won!"

"Hah, but we didn't lose! AND my team landed the top of the table! Just admit it, we're getting better," America cheered.

"Tell me America, what was the final score again? I seem to have forgotten," provoked France.

"Oh c'mon man, you know! It was tied o-"

England clamped his hand over America's mouth, seething with anger.

"Don't encourage him! Might I remind you what place you came in as well?"

"It wasn't my fault! Don't remind me…" France cried out angrily.

"At least I'm satisfied knowing I did better than _you,_" England hissed.

Japan had been listening quietly the whole time, and decided to turn to Greece.

"I am glad to see you back in the race this year, my friend," he said quietly. Greece, who had previously been staring at the television, adjusted the cat in his lap and turned to Japan as well.

"The same goes for you, and good luck. Who knows if we'll be able to play each other."

Japan didn't reply, but he hoped they didn't have to.

"You know Italy, while you may be terrible at many other things, I must give you credit, you are quite good at football," Germany commented, taking a swig of beer.

"Ve? You really think so?"

Germany smirked. "I think four titles can speak for themselves."

Italy joined in. "Oh yea, like in 2006! When I beat you in the semifinals-"

"Alright, alright, don't get carried away," Germany grumbled.

England had overheard the nations' conversation and decided to kick a man while he was down.

"Oh and France, don't get me started on the 2006 finals! You were in tears alright!" England laughed. France quickly turned and grabbed him by the collar.

"If you think for one second I won't pummel you-"

"Everyone shut up! They're going to announce the groups now!" yelled Switzerland.

The clamor immediately stopped, and everyone shifted into their seats, filled with anticipation. America took that moment to start stuffing his face with burgers, the other nations looking on with disgust. Germany turned up the volume even louder, as the official got ready to pull out a team from Pot one.

"The first team of Group A, of course, will be Brazil." The name popped up on the giant screen behind him, followed by three blanks underneath.

And for once, just once, all the countries agreed; no way in hell did they want to land in that group. All held their breath, even America, as the names of the three countries were called out.

"Croatia, Mexico, and Cameroon, and that concludes Group A."

A simultaneous sigh of relief swept through the room, and they all laughed.

"Thank god all of us were spared," joked France. Out of nowhere he produced a wine glass in his hand and took a sip of momentary content.

"Don't get too comfortable," joked Spain, opening up a bottle of beer and taking a drink. France rolled his eyes.

"Now on to Group B," the official stated. "First is… Spain." A few people shifted uneasily in their seats, afraid to say anything.

"Our second team is… the Netherlands!"

Spain's eyes widened as he spit out the beer he was drinking.

"WHAT?" shouted the Netherlands, frozen in shock. After a few seconds he promptly got up and stormed out of the room while Spain laughed his ass off. Most of the other countries were chuckling, preparing themselves for the now revived rivalry between Spain and the runner up of the 2010 World Cup finals.

"…Chile, and finally, Australia. That is all for Group B."

"Oh dear, poor Australia," snickered England. Even when he had colonized that git they had never gotten along. Especially when it came to cricket.

"Well thank goodness Spain and Brazil are out of the way…"

"I know right? But I totally could have taken them on anytime!"

"As if, America. How many times have you won the Cup again? Hm?" America, slightly miffed, didn't say anything.

"_Oui, _that is what I thought."

Italy, curious as to where the Netherlands had gone, jumped up from the couch. "I'll be a right back, ok? Don't let them start without me!"

"Idiot," Germany grumbled. Coincidentally, the event cut to break time as the commercials came on.

"Huh, I guess he really is that important," chimed in Russia.

Germany crossed his arms, looking rather irritated. America resumed stuffing his face.

"Mr. Germany, may I ask what is wrong?" questioned Japan. A few of the nations turned to look at him, waiting.

"Ugh, it is nothing… except for the fact that… Italy… Italy intimidates me when it comes to football!" he ended up yelling out the last part, his face slightly red.

"Is that so?" mused Spain.

"Don't act foolish. You all know his record, do you not? 4 wins overall? That's one more than me!"

Again England reached into his pocket, only this time pulling out a spontaneous cup of tea. Huh, it seems he and France have more in common than they think.

"Getting a bit overzealous, aren't we Germany? I'm terribly sorry you had to settle for third place the last two times…" he sipped his tea, smiling.

"_Ha, Sie aller Menschen! _The one who has a record of being beaten into the ground by me!"

"Wasn't it you who said 'ze past ist ze past!' and all that rubbish?" the Englishman yelled back, sitting on the edge of the couch. The German was about to reply when Italy bounded back into the room.

"Hey you guys! Netherlands said he was busy, I don't know with what, but he had a very sharp knife in his hand! Perhaps he is going to cook a something for us!"

Spain gulped.

"And now back to the World Cup 2014 group drawings!"

"Greece."

He sighed, already feeling a sense of defeat as he watched the official pull out the slip of paper with his name neatly printed on.

"Do not worry, if you truly believe in the heart of the game you can beat Colombia," Japan reassured him.

"The Ivory Coast," the official added.

"And definitely the Ivory Coast."

Greece smiled slightly, knowing that his friend was doing his best to lift his spirits. "Thank you for-"

"And Japan! That concludes Group C."

Oh crap.

Cue long, awkward silence.

"Haha, sucks for you guys!" someone shouted. Japan kept his mouth shut this time.

France and England began to get restless. Their countries hadn't been called yet, and Germany seemed to be looming over them…

"Now for Group D."

France warily looked over at England. "…_mon ami, _perhaps we do end up in the same one…"

England gave him a questioning look. "So? Why are you being a pansy about it?"

"Ah, nothing." He smiled. "Just remembering old times."

"And now for Group D. Our first country will be… Uruguay." A few eyebrows raised here and there. Yet another threatening team had been drawn first.

"Second team is… Costa Rica."

"Where is the infamous _groupe de la mort? _And what if I end up in it?" France whimpered.

"Oh, quit being such a sissy you frog…" England moaned, shutting his eyes in frustration.

"England!"

"What! What is it n-"

Immediately his eyes shot open and flew to the television screen. There was his name. He looked over at the nations sitting next to him, who were trying to contain their laughter. He only let himself panic for a split second before returning to his usual "calm" demeanor.

"You guys underestimate me. Of course I can handle Uruguay if I wanted to. I just have to deal with that f*cking Suarez…"

"Dude, don't forget there's one more country left… it could be me!"

England simply growled. As he watched the screen fervently, he thought he saw Germany and France lean forward ever so slightly…

"And the last nation is… Italy!"

The teacup slipped from his fingers as his mouth gaped open in shock.

"Oh bollocks."

The room erupted with laughter, though nothing could be more annoying that Germany's uproarious guffaws as he slammed the beer bottle down on the table in delight.

America slapped his hand on the poor Brit's back.

"Group of death dude, group of death!" If only looks could kill.

"Heya England! It looks like we will be fighting against each other! Isn't that going to be a so much fun?"

"Not for you it isn't! Where's the white flag, huh? Aren't you going to surrender like always?"

"Nope! Not when I know I am going to win!"

Germany and Japan did a double take. Since when, if ever, was the Italian so confident about victory? Had he been hiding this side of himself the whole time? England, however, did not take the statement lightly.

"What makes you so damn sure of yourself!? Coming from a country like _you, _tsk tsk…"

Before Germany could say anything to defend his friend, they were once again interrupted by Switzerland.

"You guys shut up! There are other countries in room as well!"

And finally the mindless babble ceased, just in time for the official to begin on Group E. England laid back into the sofa, knowing that his time to worry had past, although he was still slightly curious as to where France and America were going…

If they ended up in the same group, he definitely knew who he was betting on.

"The first nation of Group E is… Switzerland."

"Hell yeah!" The Swiss cheered enthusiastically.

"Second is… Ecuador."

"Easy peasy. Come on, give me someone hard!"

"Third.… France!"

That seemed to shut him up. The look on France's face was a mix of excitement, confusion, and horror.

"You idiot… Ecuador is way better than you," France moaned. So far there was no one interesting in his group. Where was the challenge of competing against one of his greatest enemies, or even friends?

"Ah well, _c'est la vie. _At least I am sure of my victorious outcome!" He downed the rest of his wine in satisfaction.

"The final country will be Honduras… that concludes Group E."

"Oh, lucky for you, isn't it," England spat icily. That frog basically had this in the bag…

"Relax _Angleterre, _I know how eager you are to play me, so just make sure you place second and don't get your ass kicked by Ita-"

"Why second!?"

"Because Italy is way better, that is why!" the Frenchman exclaimed.

"First for Group F is Argentina."

England grabbed France's collar and yanked him violently. "It's pathetic how obsessed you are with trying to degrade me when we haven't even played each other in this since 1982! Lay off already!" For some reason, France stopped struggling and his expression changed.

"It is true, _mon ami_." He sighed. "That is why I want to play you, so it could be like the good old times…"

England paused, loosening his grip ever so slightly. "…what, that's all?"

The Frenchman smirked. "And I want to make sure I can still trounce you." He started laughing then, and England even cracked a smile himself. However, the two Europeans were unaware of the shadow that loomed over them.

"Excuse me." They both looked up to see a towering Russia. "I would like to go through the next two hours without smashing a face with my pipe, so you stop bickering like old gay couple, ok?"

"Oh please," England muttered, pushing France away. "It's his fault anyway."

"You guys didn't even hear the group being called, did you?" Spain asked.

"I'm afraid I didn't."

"Only Argentina, Bosnia, Iran and Nigeria, don't worry so much!" Spain cracked open another bottle, his eyes just a little glazed over.

"How many more groups again?"

"I am getting impatient… "

"We should totally start making bets!"

"And now for the second to last group. Once again, after all groups have been completed, team managers must come forward afterwards to receive scheduling information."

At that moment, the Netherlands reappeared, almost grimacing at Spain. "S-see you in 6 months, my friend…" He was acting rather creepily, considering the not so blunt object he had been cradling a few minutes ago.

"Uh… _sí_…"

"So, what did I miss…" The Dutch country asked as he leaned against the wall.

Russia looked at him. "Oh, you know, like everything."

"Our first country is… Germany."

"FINALLY!"

"Congratulations Germany! I hope you get a first place!" Italy beamed.

"Our next one is… Portugal!" A few people gasped. It seemed like yet another killer lineup was forming.

England chuckled. "Heh, I guess that makes me feel a bit better."

"Oh man, I'd hate to be the loser stuck in that group!" America yelled. Germany had shifted even further out of his seat, barely even sitting on the couch. He loved a challenge.

"Ghana!"

America burst out into annoying laughter as he grabbed a beer from Italy and chugged it down with the remains of his calorific junk food.

"You really shouldn't be doing that, you're going to choke," mumbled Japan.

"And it's outright disgusting!" England chimed in.

"Chillax Britain, you're just grumpy 'cause you got a shitty draw! I would totally take on your group AND mine, no doubt!" Germany, Spain- basically everyone was growing increasingly frustrated with America's ridiculous self-infatuation, as the volume was cranked up to its limit to try to drown out the high-pitched voice.

"I can bloody well bet that you won't even get past the group stages! Not even close!"

"_Oui, _I have to agree with him on that one."

"You got just as far as I did biotch! Don't think I can't beat you, 'cause I totally can! Hahahaha!"

"SHUT UP YOU IDIOT!"

"You can't mak-"

"And finally, U.S.A! What a group!"

Everyone in the room froze. It seemed as if the wind had been knocked right out of the American's lungs. And for once, he was speechless.

All at once the nations roared, all attention towards the young man with the absolutely appalled look on his face. Cold sweat drenched America's forehead.

England came over and slapped his former colony even harder on the back. "Group of death, mate. Group of death. HAH, take that you wanker!"

Germany bellowed with laughter and gave America one of the most sadistic looks anyone had ever seen.

"Oh yes, it's quite nice to hear you shut up for once."

"Let me think, who's been the team that's eliminated you for the past three World Cups? It was Ghana, right?" Russia joked.

America slowly sat down on the couch again, humiliated. "Oh please, I still have a chance…"

This caused an even bigger reaction. He realized maybe he should shut his big mouth for the time being. Japan, being the sympathizer he is, scooted over to him.

"If it makes you feel any better, do not give up now. Keep fighting."

America looked up at him, a grin on his face. "I know dude, just wait. They'll see."

"They have already finished the last group…" Russia grumbled. A few people turned towards the TV in time to see the big screen show the last four countries: Belgium, Algeria, Russia, and South Korea.

"Ah, relax, Russia. It shouldn't worry you too much," France shrugged.

"_Da, _but it's fine. I know nation's team is not as good as everyone else's."

The official made his closing statements and left the stage, letting the cameras swoop over the drawings that had now been engraved into everyone's minds. England stood up, stretching his arms.

"Well, rivalries aside, I wish everyone good luck. May the best team win."

"My my, _mon ami, _that doesn't sound like you at all," the Frenchman chuckled. England glared at him.

Quite suddenly America stoop up as well, earning everyone's attention. However, he just smiled and meandered towards the door.

"Like the limey says. We're all gonna need it." He slowly opened the door and finally stepped out into the night air. England and France looked at each other.

"Oh my," the Brit said. "This should get interesting."

_There you have it! The drawings for the 2014 World Cup. If you want to find out all the history that the countries talked about just look up the results from the last two World Cups online! So, who do you want to win? I will be writing more once the games start in the summer, and I'll make sure to cover the countries' reactions as they are slowly picked off. Well, I'll mainly write about England, France, Germany, and America :P Thanks for reading! _


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